


Two Days

by HenryWithACause (HenryBoyThatsMe)



Category: Spring Awakening - Sheik/Sater
Genre: Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, old fic, the boys get some alone time, transferred from ffn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-12
Updated: 2018-01-12
Packaged: 2019-03-03 19:13:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13347690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HenryBoyThatsMe/pseuds/HenryWithACause
Summary: Hanschen's parents go away for the weekend and he needs someone to help him look after the house while they're gone.





	1. Homework

**Author's Note:**

> Decided to go through some of my (very) old work and post the things that weren't terrible. Please keep in mind that I wrote this in 2009... I hope you enjoy!

They were sitting in the vineyard, Ernst leaning against Hanschen and reading the latest latin text, desperately trying to focus on the words on the page and not on how Hanschen was whispering them in his ear. Ernst sighed, marveling at his ability to make something as dull and aggravating as latin verse sound seductive and enticing. His soft, low voice, the way his hot breath caressed Ernst's face, and the way his lips gently brushed against his ear, sending that special shiver up both of their spines. Ernst sighed and leaned his head back, "Hanschen... You have to... stop it," yet even as he said it he turned in his lap so that they were face to face. Hanschen grinned and began to kiss his neck. "Stop... I have to-oh god-I have to... study."

"I was just helping you with your pronunciation."

"Well, it was distracting me, and I really need to focus."

"Fine," Hanschen sighed, "I'll stop."

"Really?" At that point Ernst had given up all hope of ever finishing his homework.

"Really. I have full confidence that you will repay me later," he said, smirking just enough to get his point across. Hanschen waited for a response, not at all doubting that Ernst didn't fully believe him, but he nodded nonetheless. He grinned and pulled him forward sharply, capturing his lips in a fierce kiss. Ernst was the first to pull away, gasping for breath, his eyes glazed over and his mind blank. Hanschen's kisses never failed to have that effect on him, and he knew it was going to be his undoing someday, that is, if he hadn't already been undone.

"Do you still want to study?"

"No," Hanschen began to lean in again, but Ernst pushed him away. "But I have to," he said, turning around and picking up the book, amazed that he managed to retain his self control, especially after that kiss.

~ * ~

Ernst approached his house slowly in an attempt to be a quiet as possible. The sky was darkening rapidly and he should have been home over an hour ago. He wasn't late for dinner, and he knew that everyone would be home, so there wasn't much point in trying to sneak in, but it was worth a shot. He stopped in front of the door, making a fast and clumsy attempt to smooth down his hair and fix the disarray that his shirt and blazer were in, with limited success. He placed his hand on the knob, turning it slowly and wincing as it creaked loudly.

"Ernst Robel! Where have you been? You informed me that you would be home by five and it is fast approaching seven. You had me so worried. What's wrong with your cloths?" Frou Robel attacked him with questions, trapping him in the exact situation he had been trying to avoid.

"I'm sorry momma. I was studying," Ernst tugged at his shirt. "At the Rillow's... and I lost track of time, so I ran home." She looked him up and down, as if analyzing the wrinkles in his shirt, or his tangled hair would confirm his story, eventually she nodded.

"Go fix your clothes, I'll call you when dinner is ready. I want you to think about how much time your spending with the Rillow boy, I don't think he is a good influence on you," Frou Robel said, looking him over one more time.

"Yes momma," Ernst mumbled, turning and hurriedly climbing the stairs to his room.

Once inside the safe haven of his bedroom he leaned against the closed door and breathed a sigh of relief, that had been far too close for his comfort. He stood up and placed his satchel on his bed, letting the contents spill out, among them was a folded piece of paper that hadn't been there a hour ago. Ernst smiled to himself, Hanschen had this miraculous ability to write long letters and slip them into his bag or even his pocket without ever letting the people around him notice he was in possession of a pen and paper. He picked up the note, unfolding it slowly and carefully, anxious to see what the most recent, and most likely forbidden words were.

_Dear Ernst,_

_This weekend my father is going to be in Berlin for business reasons, and my mother-the dutiful wife that she is-has decided to accompany him. I have been instructed to stay behind and look after the house. I managed to convince them that it would be in everyone's best interest if I had some help. After some debate it was decided that you would not burn the house down or break the china, fortunately they didn't take into account what I plan to do to you once we are alone._

_Make your decision quickly, I can't stand the anticipation._

_Hanschen Rillow_

_P.S. You read far too slowly._

Ernst began to refold the letter, then promptly unfolded it, rereading what it said, just to make sure he hadn't imagined it all. Him and Hanschen. Alone. For an entire weekend. Although his excitement died down as he recalled his mother's earlier words, it was unlikely she would allow him to spend two full days with him if she was under the impression that he was a bad influence. Although his father might be able to convince her otherwise, it was worth a try.

~ * ~

He sat at the top of the stairs, listening t his parents debate. He had broached the subject at dinner, and as predicted, his mother did not approve yet his father was fine with it.

"He's helping Ernst with his studies, what is wrong with that?" Herr Robel argued.

"He's hardly ever home on time anymore, and when he is he locks himself in his room and won't come out until dinner,he's stopped doing his chores, and his clothes are always in disarray when he gets home. Please explain how studying would tangle his hair and rip the buttons off his shirt." Ernst winced, he had hoped she hadn't noticed the buttons.

His mother was gaining the higher ground, but his father continued to plead his case. "He says he runs home, that would explain why his hair is out of place."

Frou Robel sighed, "I just hate to think that he's been getting into fights, I'm worried about him." There was a long silence. Too long. Then.

"I hardly think he'll be getting into fights looking after a house for the weekend, and as far as chores, do you really believe that he's going to put himself through the embarrassment of allowing he Rillows to come home to a messy house?" There was another silence and Ernst prayed to the almighty god that it was one of quiet agreement on his mother's side.

"Very well."

* * *

 


	2. No Words

Hanschen paced the length of his living room impatiently. His parents had finally left, after going over exactly when they would be back. His mother left her hat in the bedroom, then in the kitchen, then on the dining room table, then in the kitchen again before finally shoving it on her head with such force that Hanschen was sure her head was going to rip right through the top. Thankfully it didn't and they went on their way.

The only problem was that Ernst wasn't there yet, and the longer he waited, the more time he had to think about what they would do once he got there, which was a very dangerous thing. He knew for a fact that  _neither_  of them had enough energy in their body to go through with everything he dreamed up. Unfortunately, all that knowledge did was heighten his anticipation.

He was beginning to think he was going to wear a hole in the floor when he heard a soft knock at the door. He froze. He knew exactly who was on the other side of that door. He grinned. This was going to be an enjoyable two days.

Hanschen pulled the door open, and on the other side - as predicted - was Ernst, his school satchel packed for the weekend and slung over his shoulder, causing his whole body to lean just slightly to the right, and a small, embarrassed smile on his face. They stared at each other for a couple of seconds before Ernst was pulled inside and pushed roughly against the door, closing it and trapping him in one swift movement. They were both breathing heavily, the excitement and anticipation building inside them as they stood there, with Hanschen in control as usual, keeping Ernst pressed flat against the hardwood of the door, his satchel lay forgotten on the floor next to their feet. No one moved, no one blinked, and if they weren't breathing so hard they would probably be able to hear the clock ticking in the next room. An overpowering feeling of lust was written clearly on Hanschen's face, it was almost to much.

Ernst gulped, and that was it.

Hanschen closed the distance between them, kissing him hard, and clutching him so tightly that if he had been thinking he might have worried about breaking the small boy, but as it was in that moment he really didn't care about anything except eliminating everything that stood between them. The door had been first, clothing was the next logical step and so he began to unbutton Ernst's blazer with swift and expert fingers. Ernst attempted to do the same but lost all train of thought as he felt Hanschen's hands graze his neck as his blazer was pushed off his shoulders and onto the floor, lying forgotten next to his bag. They broke apart, gasping for air as Hanschen undid the buttons of his own shirt, seeing as Ernst was incapable of doing much of anything in that moment. He grabbed his hand and pulled him upstairs, repeating the same trap as earlier against the door of his bedroom, only this time his didn't take nearly as much time before reconnecting their lips in a kiss that was-if possible-even more intense than the one downstairs.

They stumbled across the room and collapsed onto the bed, once again separating to catch their breath.

And realize.

Every moment up till now had been stolen; in the vineyard, behind the school building, but never at home. At home there was too much risk, anyone could walk through the door at anytime. They never talked about it, yet they both longed for it, a single moment in the intimate privacy of one of their houses. Now it was real. There was no turning back, and they wouldn't have it any other way. One more deep breath. Hanschen leaned in to kiss him again, but this time it was slow, the moment had to be savored, it had to be remembered. Not that their previous blind passion wouldn't have been memorable, but this was different, they had time now, time to explore, time to study each other's bodies, time to be close without the constant fear of interruption. They could be themselves, they could be together, with no one around to judge or condemn them, it was exhilarating. Any remaining clothes were shed and abandoned on the floor. One more deep, shaky breath, then it was over, all the waiting, all the anticipation gone in one, indescribable moment.

It wasn't until afterward as they lay in the bed, with Ernst resting his head on Hanschen's chest, that he realized they hadn't spoken a single word to each other, not one. He lifted his head off of his chest and, feeling a little brave, gave him a light kiss before mumbling a sleepy "Hello." The sound was almost startling and seemed to echo in the otherwise completely silent room.

"Hello," Hanschen murmured, smoothing Ernst's hair out of his face. It was endearing how he managed to be so innocent, even after everything they had done together. Such experiences would strip an average person of all childhood, but with every embrace Ernst's wide eyed simplicity just seemed to grow, it was something that intrigued him to no end. He ceased his movements and let his hand rest on the back of Ernst's neck, studying his delicate facial features, and grinning as he blushed under the scrutiny.

Ernst laid his head back on Hanschen's chest, trying to focus on the quiet thumping of his heart as he contemplated whether or not to break the silence again by voicing his thoughts. The decision was made for him as he heard himself mumble in the still air, "I don't want to leave."

Hanschen looked at him in confusion, "You don't have to. We still have two days left."

He kept his eyes trained on a chip in the wall, not daring to look up at him as he said the next thing. "No, I mean... ever. I just want to stay like this."

"Well, you're going to have to get up eventually, you need to eat, and as I'm sure you've figured out, there are much more... time consuming activities than lying around all day." Ernst smiled a little, that did sound enjoyable. "You are far too sentimental, if you spend the entire weekend wishing there was more of it, it will be impossible to savor what time we do have. Now, I say we get out of bed, go downstairs, and make something of the next two days. What do you think?" Hanschen asked softly, and smiled as he felt Ernst nod slowly against his chest. He got up and went over to his chest of drawers, pulling out two shirts and a pair of pants, tossing one of the shirts at Ernst, who looked at him quizzically as he bent down to pick his pants up off the floor.

"I did bring my own clothes, they're in my bag downstairs, and besides, this will be far too big for me," he protested, attempting to hand the shirt back to Hanschen.

"Do you really believe that anyone is going to be around to care whether or not your shirt fits, especially a shirt that we both know you won't be wearing for long," he said, that ever present smirk growing on his face. Ernst blushed and began to unfold the shirt, but he paused as something fluttered out onto the floor. He bent down to pick it up, feeling his cheeks get hot when he saw what it was: a small photograph of an extremely naked woman.

"Hanschen... Who is this?" He turned and there was a flicker of something in his face, nervousness? Embarrassment? It was gone too quickly to tell for sure, replaced by a joking smirk.

"That," he said, "is Desdemona."

"How do you know her?" Ernst pressed, attempting to keep his throat from closing up.

"I don't know her, she's a model, there are many other pictures like this," Hanschen stepped forward and tried to take the photo away from him, but he wouldn't allow it.

"Why do you have it?"

"I used to... enjoy looking at it." Ernst closed his eyes and dropped the picture on the floor, sitting back down on the bed.

"Do you still... you know...  _look_  at it?"

"Are you honestly jealous of a photograph?" asked Hanschen.

There was no pause, no time for thought, the answer was immediate, "Yes." His eyes were pleading and desperate, his childish innocence overpowering everything as he waited for a response. He never got one, just a kiss, like the first one they ever shared, soft and short, yet at the same time demanding and territorial, saying much more than any of his seductive and thought out speeches ever could. "Hanschen..." They kissed again, slow and deep as Ernst leaned back onto the bed, closing his eyes and not thinking about anything accept the sensation of Hanschen's lips on his. It was a feeling that there were no words for, and in many ways no words was better than a thousand.


	3. A Beautiful Dream

Hanschen led Ernst to the library. "Wait here, I'm going to get something to drink, I know where my father keeps his best wine."

"Do you really think we should do that?" Ernst asked nervously.

"Of all the things that we  _shouldn't_  do, I think taking my father's wine is not what we need to worry about," Hanschen said, leaning in and kissing him on the forehead as if to remind him of the other things they 'shouldn't do.' Ernst smiled and leaned into the touch, nodding when Hanschen pulled away and settling himself on the window seat. Although, the mood switched when he retuned with the drinks, Ernst simply placed his on the table and stared out the window. They sat in silence, and after a while Hanschen sighed and put his glass down. "Ernst, what's wrong? You're beginning to bore me."

He didn't move, keeping his eyes trained on a tree outside the window as he muttered a quiet, "I'm sorry."

"Ernst,  _look_  at me." He did. "Now tell me what is wrong, and don't say 'nothing', you are a hopeless liar."

Actually he was quite a good liar, he thought, he just couldn't lie to  _Hanschen._ He looked away again. "It's getting dark out."

"I know."

"Soon we'll have to go to sleep, and when we wake up it will be Saturday, then Sunday, and your parents are coming home Sunday night... and I'll have to leave," Ernst continued.

"I know."

"... and I don't want to."

"I know Ernst, you told me earlier," he was beginning to get confused, the boy was going in circles.

He closed his eyes for a moment then moved across the seat and curled himself in Hanschen's lap, clutching onto his shirt as if letting go meant he would never be able to touch him again. "But I was being serious, I love you Hanschen, I really, truly do, and I don't know how I'll be able to leave after this," he had buried his face in the fabric of his shirt, so the words were muffled, but still audible.

"I understand your worry. I know as well as you do that this is all just a fantasy, just some beautiful dream that has to disappear when our parents shake us awake. But you have to remember, we have  _time_ before they do, time to do whatever we want, and if what we want to do is sit in the library and drink my father's very expensive wine, we'll do that, and if we want to pass the time by doing something slightly more  _intimate_ , then that is what we'll do. Don't be sad, all sadness does is speed time in the wrong places, and slow it down when it's least convenient," Hanschen murmured, stroking his hair in an attempt to relax him. It didn't work, Ernst just tightened his grip on his shirt, and pressed his face harder into the material.

"I don't want to wake up."

"Are you crying?" Hanschen asked.

"No," he shook his head.

"Look at me." he shook his head again. "It isn't as if this is the last time we are going to see each other, and my father goes to Berlin all the time so we will be able to do this again as well. I promise. Will you please look at me?"

"No."

"Ernst that hurts, what kind of person doesn't want to look at their lover?" he asked, grinning a bit in the hope that maybe a touch of sarcasm would get through to him.

Ernst froze, then slowly pulled back and looked up a Hanschen, "I'm your lover?"

Hanschen frowned, he  _had_ been crying.

"What else would you be?" The smirk was back.

"I don't know," Ernst started to look down again, but Hanschen stopped him by placing a hand on his cheek.

"Shall I remind you?" The smirk disappeared. It was odd, it usually went hand in hand with suggestions like that, but not this time. This time, for whatever reason, it was gone. He was serious, every word, everything he had said-with the exception of his recent sarcasm-he meant it.

"Hanschen... I'm scared."

"Of me?"

"Oh no! No. I'm scared because I don't know anything. I don't know how to hide, but I know that I have to. I don't know what people are going to do if they find out, and I'm not sure I want to, and I don't know why I love you so much, I just know that I  _do._  I know that it's supposed to be wrong, but it just feels so good, and I want to know  _why_!" Ernst was close to screaming and his face was wet with tears. He was coming apart at the seams, all of the confusion was finally taking its toll. This was the price of his innocence, the inevitable consequence of being so blissfully unaware. He was still a child, and nothing would ever change that, not their forbidden intimacy, not even a detailed description of how the world worked. Ernst would always be a child, he would always need to be protected, and now it was Hanschen's job to protect him.

"It's true. The system is against us, I doubt we will live to see a day when it isn't. But why should we let that stop us? When we're alone we can do whatever we want, with no care of what people will think. And If it feels good then nothing else matters. You could forsake everything, you could risk your life, as long as it feels good," it felt strange trying to justify all of this, but by now it was probably the only thing that would even begin to calm him down.

Ernst sniffed, but nodded all the same, resting his head on Hanschen's chest once more, "Can we just stay like this?... At least for now?"

"Sure," Hanschen closed his eyes and leaned his head back, there was a soft thump as it connected with the wall and he felt Ernst jerk a little in his arms at the sound. He was shaking, hyper aware of everything around him, so much so that even a soft sound such as that would set him on edge.

Eventually he calmed down, he stopped shaking, his breathing slowed, and he fell into a slightly restless sleep. "Ernst?" No response. Hanschen sighed and slowly but carefully worked himself out from underneath the smaller boy, practically holding his breath in the fear that he'd wake him. Once he succeeded he shook himself to wake up the limbs that had fallen asleep along with Ernst, then, after taking one more deep breath, he lifted him up and began to carry him up the stairs and back to the room. He kept having to stop as Ernst kept twitching in his sleep from some unknown dream or-it was unfortunate but possible-nightmare. Opening the door was the most difficult part but he managed, kicking the door shut and wincing when it connected loudly with the door frame. Thank god Ernst was a heavy sleeper.

Hanschen carefully lowered him onto the bed, making sure he wasn't going to wake up before breathing a sigh of relief and heading over to his chest of drawers to change into his nightshirt. He had to think. He had never figured Ernst to be one to act like that... Then again, he had never figured himself to be one to crave anyone in the primal, but yearning way that he craved Ernst. Everyone had to have surprises, some more interesting than others, but surprises nonetheless. Although the degree of complication was much smaller when tears were not involved.

He climbed into bed, listening to the church bells sound off the early hour in the distance. It was only nine, Ernst had arrived at four, an eventful afternoon to say the least. He inched nearer to the already sleeping boy, snaking his arm around his waist and pulling him close, grinning a bit when he felt Ernst clutch his hand reflexively, and unconsciously press their bodies closer together.

Tomorrow was Saturday, tomorrow the weekend would officially start, tomorrow they would drink wine the the library and stroll around and not care.

Today would be forgotten, tomorrow.


	4. Ask Me A Question

Ernst yawned and stretched, closing his eyes against the harsh sunlight. Using his hand to shade his eyes he squinted and looked at Hanschen. His arm was still draped around his waist from the night before and he hadn't yet woken up. Ernst slipped out of bed quietly and made his way downstairs. He went to the front door first, where his bag, shirt, and blazer had been abandoned yesterday. He picked everything up, folding the clothes, placing them in the satchel, and pulling his latin book out. The library was second, he dropped his bag on the table and settled himself on the window seat, maybe he could get some actual reading done, because there was no way he was going to fall asleep now that he was awake. Plus he needed something to keep him from looking at the clock and dreading how little time he had left with Hanschen.

Half an hour later he had read ten pages, reread three, and gotten confused six times. Either Herr Sonnenstich really wasn't teaching them anything, or his studies had been interrupted far more times than he thought. Because of a lack of energy or lack of desire to figure out which one it really was, he settled on the conclusion that it was a little bit of both. He sighed and turned back all ten pages, giving into the fate of needing to reread all of them if he had any hope of passing. He was in the middle of his second page when the book was yanked out of his hands and snapped shut.

"Ernst, what are you doing?" Hanschen asked.

"Studying."

"Why?"

"You were asleep, and I didn't want to wake you," he said, reaching for the book but only succeeding in grasping air as Hanschen held it above his head.

"You know," he said, lightly stroking Ernst's cheek, "I wouldn't have minded if you had."

"Woken you up?" He nodded. "But I didn't want to disturb you."

Hanschen chuckled and placed the book on the table, "I invited you to spend the weekend  _with_  me, not in my library studying while I slept upstairs. Come, follow me," he said, taking hold of Ernst's hand.

"where are we going?" he asked.

"To the kitchen, where the food is. Aren't you hungry?" Ernst just nodded and continued to follow. "Don't look so shocked, the situation would be bad for you and worse for me if I allowed you to starve," he squeezed his hand one more time before releasing it and walking over to the kitchen table. "Sit up here."

"What? There  _are_  chairs, you know?"

"I know, but I have decided that we are going to break all of the rules. So, sit on the table," he tapped it and grinned when Ernst waked over and sat down tentatively. Satisfied, he went to rummage through the pantry.

"Hanschen?"

"Yes?"

"Ask me a question."

"Excuse me?" he looked up from his search.

Ernst blushed and focused his eyes on the floor, "Any question. We could make a game of it, you know, take turns asking each other questions..." he trailed off, looking up cautiously to try and gauge Hanschen's reaction.

He thought for a minute, then smirked. "That could be entertaining. Would you like to start?"

"Alright, um... Why did you invite me to stay with you?" It wasn't as if he didn't know the answer, he just enjoyed hearing it.

"I wanted to spend time with you. Alone. You know that," he said, taking out a loaf of bread and a knife.

Ernst blushed again, "Your turn."

Hanschen chuckled and held up a slice of bread, "One piece or two?"

"Two," he paused, waiting for him to continue.

"Your turn."

"What?"

"I asked you a question, you answered. Your turn," Hanschen explained.

"Hanschen... That's not what I meant," he said, looking up at him with pleading eyes.

"Would you like me to ask something else?" Ernst nodded. "Alright," he leaned in so that their faces were only a few inches apart, placing his hands on either side of where Ernst was sitting, "Do you think about me when we're not together?"

Ernst's breathing was shallow and his voice was horse as he gave his answer, "Always," he sighed and closed his eyes, but opened them sharply in surprise as he felt Hanschen pull back and go back to slicing the bread.

"You do flatter me. I honestly don't know what I've done to warrant being on your mind every minute of the day. But you have mentioned that you're in love with me, so I'm sure that plays a part. You're turn," Hanschen muttered, never taking his eyes off the task at hand. Ernst was struck dumb, he sat staring into space, opening and closing his mouth in an attempt to comprehend what just happened. Hanschen merely smiled, relishing in the effect he had on the other boy.

With some difficulty Ernst regained his composure, searching his mind for a question that would change the subject but still keep the conversation interesting. "Did you know that none of the girls like you?"

Hanschen looked at him. "Really? And how exactly did you come across this particular piece of information?"

"I talk with them a lot."

"They let you in on their conversations?" he had to admit, that was impressive, the girls were quite secretive.

Ernst nodded, "Yes, they tell me all kinds of things. But mostly they talk about the boys, and I think that may be why they let me speak with them. They believe that because I attend classes with the other boys, that I must know all about them. They also trust that I won't tell anyone what they say," he explained.

"You're telling me."

"This is different. But it is true, none of them fancy you."

"Well then, who  _do_ they fancy?" he asked.

"Thea liked Melchior, but she knew that he was in love with Wendla, and now that he's at the reformatory I think she's just given up. Martha loved Moritz, so nowadays she's even sadder than usual. But Anna likes Georg, and she's told me that because she has her piano lesson right after he does, sometimes she'll go early to listen to him play." He had lost count of how many times Anna had asked him about the things that Georg liked, and every time he had politely refrained from telling her that he didn't take those lessons just because he liked the music.

"All that proves is that none of them are romantically interested in me, that doesn't mean they don't like me at all," Hanschen pointed out.

"Trust me, they don't like you, they've asked me why I spend so much time with you, and they said that you scare them... except Ilse, she doesn't mind you."

"Ilse? I thought she lived in the artist's colony," he was beginning to get confused.

"She does, but occasionally she will come and sit with us if we're near the forest." Ernst enjoyed Ilse's company, she had so many interesting stories to tell, she was just so free.

"I don't like her much, she calls me Hansi," he said, wrinkling his nose at the name.

"Hansi?... I like it," he smiled at he turned the name over in his head, it suited him, it was no better or worse than his actual name, it just suited him.

"Come on, we'll eat breakfast, then go out and buy some real food, all we have here is more bread and some cheese," he said, getting plates and a stick of butter before hopping up on the table next to Ernst.

"Doesn't your mother ever get you food?"

"She does, but we haven't been to the market in a while and she took a good deal of what was left with them to Berlin."

Ernst giggled, Hanschen's mother was strange, but then again, from what he'd heard about his father, it was understandable. He leaned his head on Hanschen's shoulder and they ate in silence, neither of them doubting that their game of questions would continue later in the day.

* * *

 


	5. Glancing

They lay curled on the couch, wrapped in the protective confines of each other's embrace. The window blinds were drawn tightly shut, concealing them from the outside world. Hanschen supported himself on his elbow and looked down at Ernst, who fixated his eyes on a nearby table in order to try and hide any reaction he may have been having to the continuous gaze. The room had been silent for a while, a comfortable quiet that both of them knew wasn't meant to be broken. Although, the knowledge that the silence was supposed to stay as such didn't stop the desire to break it, and after all, Hanschen had never been good at resisting temptation. "Why don't you like attention?" he asked.

"I never said that," Ernst mumbled, not taking his eyes off the table.

"Then why are you doing that?" Hanschen placed his hand on his shoulder and tried to turn him around to face him, but he resisted.

"I'm not doing anything," his voice rose an octave in denial.

"You're concentrating, and you're doing it to avoid doing something else. It's not blushing, you blush around me all the time, and it's not smiling, that would never be something to be ashamed of... you are trying not to squirm. Are you really that uncomfortable with me looking at you?" he sat up and stared down at Ernst, whose gaze was still averted.

"I'm not uncomfortable, I just... I can feel where your eyes are."

"What do you mean," he watched him closely, waiting for some kind of reaction, anything to let him know what was happening inside his head.

"I can feel you, I really can. Like now for instance, you're looking at my face," he stuttered as he attempted to explain. Hanschen reached a hand out to brush the hair away from his face, then changed direction and glanced at the floor. "Why did you look away?" Hanschen jerked his head back up, Ernst was still focused on the table. This could prove to be quite interesting.

"Do you want to play a game?"

"We're already playing a game. We're asking each other questions, remember?" Ernst pointed out.

"Alright then. Can you always feel me?" Hanschen asked.

He sighed, there was no avoiding it. "Yes. That is why I'm glad that you sit in front of me for most of our classes, because otherwise I would never be able to concentrate and would surely get thrown out."

"Are you saying that you can concentrate now, even when you spend most of the time staring at me?" he inquired, "I may not have your inept ability to know exactly where you're looking, but I have enough to know that you  _are_ looking."

"True. But at least when I'm the one looking I have some control over it," Ernst explained, turning his head to see how Hanschen would react.

He grinned, "Is that what you want? To be in control?" he asked.

"No, all I meant was that during class I like to be able to know what's happening, and I can do that when I know that it is in my power to look away," he sat up so they were face to face.

"Your turn."

"Why does it interest you so?"

He was hoping that would be the question. "Because, of all the knowledge in the world, there is nothing better than knowing the effect I have on people. So naturally, knowing that my lover can sense where on their body my eyes are focused is very important information. Something to be used to my advantage  _and_ yours at a later date," he said, leaning in slightly and grinning when Ernst leaned back, matching his movements perfectly.

"And what use would that be, exactly?" he asked, looking away and drawing his knees up to his chest, his eyes widening.

"I'm afraid I can't tell you that quite yet, and besides, I do believe that it is my turn to ask." Ernst nodded in confirmation. "Alright then, when did you figure out that you had this impressive ability?"

"A couple weeks before you asked me to meet you in the vineyard, mostly when you would help me study, I didn't know what it was a first," he admitted.

"So you were aware of my persistent glances, but weren't able to understand why they were aimed towards you?"

He nodded sheepishly, "It scared me at first, then I liked it, then I hated myself for liking it. Now it's just one more thing that I don't understand, but that doesn't stop me from enjoying it. It's nice to know I'm being looked at, it makes me feel admired," he smiled a little to himself, closing his eyes and letting the sensation wash over him as Hanschen's gaze drew a path along his body.

"Ernst." He looked up. "Come here," Hanschen extended his arms in invitation as Ernst slowly slid across the couch and into his lap. He placed his hands on the small of his back to pull him closer and leaned in to kiss him. "I hope knowing that I look at you isn't the only thing that makes you feel admired."

He blushed and shook his head, "Is it my turn?"

"If you like."

"Alright. Um... Why the vineyard?" he had never thought about it before, but he was suddenly very curious.

"What?" he hadn't been expecting that, it caught him off guard.

"Why the vineyard? There are plenty off other quiet places why that one in particular?" he pressed.

"It isn't just quiet, it's peaceful, you said so yourself. I had seen you walk down the path that led to it countless times after school, sometimes even followed you. You would sit there for hours. I could understand it when you were reading something, but there were times when you would just stare into space for so long that I began to wonder if you were still there at all. So when I made up my mind about what I was going to do, I asked you to meet me there, and when I arrived you even told me what you thought about for all those hours when you had no book. It is also a very romantic spot, the trees and the vines creating shadows that wrap around everything like an intricate web that no one could ever hope to untangle. It was ideal," he explained, gently stroking Ernst's cheek as he did so.

He furrowed his brow, "You watched me?"

Hanschen smirked, "Couldn't you feel it?"

He shook his head, "No, I must have been distracted. You've told me that I think too much, maybe that's the only time when I can't feel you, when I'm lost in my head."

"Possibly." They lapsed into silence, each trying to think of something to say, each knowing of a million questions but having no way to sort through and decide on one. It was Hanschen's turn so Ernst merely waited, relaxing in his arms and keeping his gaze away from the clock on the opposite wall, lest yesterday's worries came rushing back. "Do I frighten you?"

"No. Well... a little, sometimes... when I don't know what you're going to do or say next," he admitted.

"You fear unpredictability, as do we all, to some extent. A lack of knowledge can lead us to do drastic things. That is the real reason people keep secrets, once others find out that there is something to know it drives them mad until they figure out what it is, and people enjoy the attention that this desperate seeking earns them," he explained, breathing the words out softly against his ear.

"Does that mean that people are going to find out about us?"

"Not as long as we don't let on that there is anything  _to_  find out," Hanschen assured.

"Keeping secrets is difficult," Ernst sighed.

"I know, but it gets easier when you consider the alternative." As unfortunate as the statement was, it was impossible to argue. They only knew a couple of people for whom accepting them was even a possibility. Even then nothing could change the fact that what they were doing was illegal. A law that the father who was currently in Berlin for business not only supported, but avidly fought for and drilled into the mind of the boy who was expected to agree with and pass it on to his own children. Oh, the colors he would turn if he knew that all the while he was citing the law, his son was dreaming up how to defy it in the most pleasurable ways possible. "But let's not think about that. We cannot allow ourselves to dwell on consequences. We will have to face it sooner or later, but this moment has no need for such sadness."

"How much longer can we avoid it?"

"As long as we have to."

"And what happens if someone finds out?"

Hanschen sighed, the last thing he wanted to do was scare him, but it was becoming harder and harder to elude, especially if he was interested in an honest answer. "In an unfortunate way we're lucky. We are still too young to be imprisoned, but we will still have to make a choice. Do we abandon each other for the sake of our families and deny it ever happened? Or do we abandon our families for the sake of each other? If we decide on the former, we will never be able to see each other again and will have to face condemnation from those around us. If we decide on the latter, we will need to leave everything behind, our friends, this town, possibly even this country. That is why no one can find out." Warnings whispered in a stern voice, the repercussions of love that neither of them was interested in considering.

But Ernst only heard one thing, "Why wouldn't we be able to see each other?"

"Your mother is under the impression that you want to join the clergy, and you have already said that she doesn't appreciate how much time you spend with me. Do you really believe that she would be happy to learn what we have been doing all this time?" They hid from reality almost as much as they his from their parents, and the two were equally painful to face.

"But my mama loves me," he insisted.

"Which is why she will accept it when you tell her that you made a grave mistake and that you should have listened when she warned you about the influence I could have on you, and that you will never so much as look at me again if only she would keep you as her son. I will not be so fortunate, at the very least my father will insist we move and marry me off as soon as possible to ensure that I am in the constant presence of a woman. Although, I am sure that there are far worse things that he would have no problem carrying out." He was so calm, so composed, speaking of such a topic as if they were talking about the weather. But they were not talking about the weather, there was a good chance that they would have to make that kind of decision and when the time came it would be helpful to know what each option would come to, no matter how uncomfortable it was.

He shook his head, "I won’t do it. I won’t blame you. I won’t let you go, I can't."

"If it comes to that you will have no choice."

"Yes I will. You said we could leave, we could run away, find a place where no one knows us. You said that we could do that," his eyes were wide, begging for confirmation that he had meant what he had said.

"Is that your decision? You would rather be entirely cut off from everything you know than allow yourself to enter back into your old life, albeit with some exceptions," he inquired, tilting his head to the side. He knew how attached Ernst was to him, but he was just as attached to his friends, and his mother, and his bible. As deep as his romantic devotion went, he had still fully expected him to choose to stay.

"I don't want to be condemned, I don't want my parents to hate me, I don't want to be alone. I want to be with you, no body else understands," he frowned and looked at the floor.

"So if we're ever discovered you want to leave the world you know behind and run away?" There was a pause, then slowly, Ernst nodded. "We have a deal. Shall we shake on it?" he asked, holding out his hand. He smiled and slipped his hand into Hanschen's, grinning wider as he gently raised and lowered their clasped hands. They stayed like that for a few moments, before Hanschen leaned in and slowly pressed their lips together. He moved his hands so that one rested on his lower back and the other held onto the back of his neck, pulling him closer still. Lips moved in unison, eyes shut in peace, minds blank, plans made.


	6. Something In Common

Hanschen blinked his eyes open slowly and squinted into the darkness. The candles on his bedside table had long since burned out and the moon remained the only source of light. He felt around the floor until he found his pants and the pocket watch which resided in them, he tilted its face towards the moonlight so he could make out the numbers, one fifty-five in the morning. He sighed and quietly slipped out of bed, careful not to wake Ernst, and made his way downstairs.

Putting his jacket on over his nightshirt he walked out the back door and down the short road that led to the nearby woods, stopping to rest against a tree. He stood there for a while, leaning his head on the bark and letting his eyes flicker closed, reviewing the earlier events in his mind. Ernst had clearly expressed his wishes to run away if they were ever caught, but if the time came would he really be able to do it? So much of his life revolved around the things that he would need to leave behind. It was no longer a question of love, it had become a question of sacrifice, of trade, of how much they were each willing to give up to be together, of how much longer they could hide.

The leaves in the bushes rustled and Hanschen considered going back inside, but he knew that Ernst wasn't going to wake up any time soon so he decided against it. He felt a tap on his shoulder. He may have overestimated how deep a sleeper Ernst was. He grinned and turned towards the source of the touch, "Did I wake you?" He received a giggle in response and his eyes flew open. That had not been the high pitched, boyish giggle he was used to, it was more melodious, more  _female_. "Ilse? What are you doing here?"

"I could easily redirect that question to you," she said, tilting her head as the corners of her mouth curved into a barely visible smirk.

"You shouldn't be out this late."

"On the contrary Hansi, this is the only time I should be out, at least this far, it's the time when there's no risk of getting caught," she explained. "So that leaves us with the true question, what are _you_ doing here so late at night? Or early in the morning, whichever you prefer."

"I have no obligation to tell you, but if you must know, I was thinking. Nothing more," his annoyance shone clear through his voice, he had no desire to put on a calm face for her, he was tired and had nothing to prove.

"What were you thinking of? And can't you think inside, if I'm not mistaken your house is empty, I saw your parents leave the other day with suitcases," she said, walking her fingers up and down his arm.

"Why do you need to know?"

"I'm curious."

"Curiosity killed the cat," he sighed, falling back on childish phrases as one last attempt to evade her questioning.

"Then we should all be dead. Everything we do is driven by curiosity, especially the interesting things. I also happen to know that you are just as curious as the next person, if not more so, you just don't like to show it," she grinned, looking him over as if she could know his thoughts if she tried hard enough.

"I don't believe that the world needs to be aware of my private life."

"What about Ernst?" she asked.

Warning signals sounded in the back of his head but he willed them to silence and kept a neutral face, "Care to explain what you mean by that?"

"I'm simply assuming that because you spend so much time together he must know something about your private life, unless of course, he  _is_  your private life," she smirked and her eyes sparkled as she worked to figure out her own personal mystery.

"Please elaborate."

"The two of you are astoundingly different, generally people with such conflicting personalities can't stand to be around each other for very long. I've seen this before, no one expects them to like each other, so when they do become friends no one bothers them or questions it, even if they do wonder. If you two are anything like that then your friendship would be most of your private life. Or, there is another distinct possibility. Would you like to hear a secret?" Her mind was working fast, jumping from one conclusion to the other and never once stopping to consider the fact that any of them could be wrong.

"No, I would not," he stated firmly, once again suppressing the warnings.

"I've been held at gunpoint, more than once."

"Are you sure that is something to boast about?" Hanschen

"No... But it sure was exciting. I should say I'm a bit of a scandal, don't you think? You know, running away, living at the colony, being a model, getting threatened with death. There is no feeling like it in the world, it's terrifying and amazing all at the same time. I wouldn't give it up for anything." Her breathing had quickened, she was getting caught up in everything she was speaking of, and her eyes were wide with exhilaration and adrenaline.

"You're not a scandal until word spreads about what you've done," he stated firmly.

"Not true, I was a scandal the minute I walked out my parent's door and knew I wasn't going to return," Ilse corrected. "One thing leads to another, Hansi, and there is nothing you can do to stop it. So tell me, who did you think I was?" she asked, referring back to what he had said at the start of their conversation.

"That is not something you need to know."

"But it is something that I would like to know. Tell me. Was it Ernst?" Her smile disappeared and she waited patiently for his answer.

He closed his eyes and sighed, "If you tell anyone..."

"Why would I? We have something in common."

"And what is that?"

"A scandal." She grinned one more time and vanished, running back into the forest on swift, bare feet. He stared after her for sometime before turning back up the walkway to his house. He hung up his jacket and ascended the stairs to his bedroom. Ernst hadn't moved. He pulled his shoes off, climbed into bed, kissed him lightly on the lips, and pulled him close, gazing out the window until he managed to fall back into sleep.


	7. Sunday

Ernst was the first to wake, turning over gently in Hanschen's arms, and pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. He got a simple response of blinking eyes and a slow awakening accompanied by a lingering sense of drowsiness. "Good morning," Ernst greeted, smiling a little.

Hanschen's mouth curved up in response as he leaned over to retrieve his watch, "It's almost noon, are you sure 'morning' is still valid?"

"It can be if we want it to be," he suggested.

Hanschen ran a hand through Ernst's mussed hair and smiled, "You're learning."

"Learning what?"

"How to forgo the system for the sake of your own interests."

"Well, it is technically still morning, I don't think I'm opposing the system very much," he mumbled looking at the crumpled sheets and tracing them with a lazy finger.

"Stop bringing yourself down. Now, come get dressed, we should enjoy these last few hours," he said, pushing away the bedding and walking over to his wardrobe.

"How much time do we have?" Ernst asked.

He glanced at his watch before responding, "About four hours. My parents will arrive at three, I think you should get home a little while before that, just to make things simpler," Hanschen explained.

He got a sad, but accepting nod in response, "I suppose so."

"No more of that. Now, where has your bag got to? I think it's best that you wear your own clothes today," Hanschen said, ignoring how the image of Ernst in nothing but one of his shirts effected him. He wanted to them to spend time outside and they didn't need the disapproval that would come with a repeat of yesterday's wardrobe.

"I left my bag in the library after I tried to study," Ernst supplied, moving to get out of bed and retrieve it himself. "Hanschen, where are my pants?"

Hanschen spared a momentary and far from thorough glance around the room, not moving from his position leaning against the wardrobe. "Not sure. Maybe you'll have to go naked," he lamented with faux regret as he attempted to pull the bed sheet off of Ernst's lower half.

"Stop it! I'm serious, help me find them," he demanded, tugging the sheet out of Hanschen's grasp and wrapping it around his midsection. Hanschen sighed and bent to check under the bed, pulling out Ernst's pants from underneath it.

"It seems you weren't looking very hard," Hanschen remarked with traces of laughter in his voice. Ernst made a small sound of defiance as he took the pants before standing up and turning away to put them on. The action confused Hanschen, as modesty was essentially pointless after all they had done and seen of each other, but he didn't mind considering his view from the back was equally enjoyable as from the front.

"Goodness. You'd think I was a painting with the amount that you stare," Ernst muttered as he finished buttoning his pants and turned back around.

Hanschen just grinned and leaned forward just enough to grab Ernst's arm and swiftly pull him so they were pressed against each other. After a moment of letting the tension rise he leaned in and gave Ernst a brief, but deep kiss, licking his lips as he pulled back. "Hmmm, I never thought oil and canvas would taste so good," he murmured, his mocking nature dominating the situation.

Ernst smiled and shifted in Hanschen's arms, "Shall I go get the rest of my clothes now?"

"I don't know… I rather like you like this," he responded, running his hands up and down Ernst's bare sides. Although the words and actions were intended as humor, the truth behind them seeped though as his hands gripped tighter and he leaned in to kiss the neck that was so temptingly exposed and unburdened by a shirt collar. Ernst allowed his head to fall back as his arms came up to encircle Hanschen's shoulders, giving into the sensation of his lover's lips hungrily exploring his neck. Not wanting to be entirely passive in the situation, he leaned up to kiss Hanschen's cheek and tightened his hold around his shoulders as he was hoisted up and laid back down on the bed.

"Ah… Oh! Um, a-are we going to do this all day?" Ernst asked, fighting to maintain control of his speech.

Hanschen took a deep breath and drew back, "Without a doubt, but not here. Come, you said you left your bag in the library?" He stood and pulled Ernst up with him, leading them out of the room and down the stairs. As one boy questioned the logic behind deciding to stop what they had started, the other just allowed followed in a pleasure addled daze, not entirely sure what was happening. When they made it to the library and saw Ernst's bag just where he'd left it, Hanschen gave him a small push and told him to finish getting dressed while he went back up and did the same as he was still in his night dress.

Ernst shook his head to wake himself up and headed over to his bag, slowly pulling out a clean shirt, vest and socks. He was still buzzing slightly from earlier, leftover sensations still flitted over him. He looked down at himself, at the body that until a few months ago had only ever been touched with familial affection, a mother's hug, a father's pat on the back, never anything even close to what Hanschen had showed him touch could be. He brought his hand up and experimentally ran it across his chest. It was different. Nothing like what he'd felt upstairs just a few minutes ago. It was more like a reminder or a memory of that touch, the same basic action with none of the same intention behind it. He closed his eyes and tried to remember some of the more specific things Hanschen did with his hands. He recalled something and focused in on it, opening his eyes again and looking back down at his body. He lifted his hand so that instead of a flat palm just his fingertips remained in contact with his chest then slowly slid them down his torso and over his stomach. That did something. It felt more like the real thing, elicited some of the same sparks of sensation, but it still wasn't nearly as potent as when it came from Hanschen.

"What are you doing?" Speak of the Devil.

"Um, I… I was, uh… curious," Ernst stuttered out in embarrassment, hastily trying to put on the shirt that had been hanging limply in his hands.

"About what?" Hanschen asked, a broad smirk on his face.

"H-how it, um… feels to-to uh-"

"Touch yourself?"

Ernst looked at the floor, "Yes."

Hanschen walked over to where Ernst was standing by the table, shirt hanging open and eyes fixed on the space in front of his feet and placed a hand under his chin to force eye contact, "And? What did you think? Don't be shy, tell me."

"Well… it's not the same," he offered to which he received a chuckle in response.

"Of course it's not the same."

"Then why do people do it?" Ernst asked.

"Because, sometimes it's all we've got and if you do it right and think of the right thing it can be  _very_ good," Hanschen explained.

"Oh… Interesting," his eyes returned to the floor as he quickly buttoned up his shirt and tugged on his vest before crouching to pull on his socks.

"Ernst." He looked up. "Don't be afraid of yourself. Our parents may say it's bad, but that doesn't mean it truly is. Let yourself feel," Hanschen advised, pulling him back up to standing.

Ernst nodded, but still wasn't able to relax. It was strange to be encouraged to do everything he was one taught was sinful and stranger still to believe that this alternate teaching might be the truth. He shrugged and took his bag off of the table and slung it over his shoulder. Now was not the time for questions or doubts, now was the time to savor their last few hours of freedom. "So, are we going somewhere?"

Hanschen smiled, "Yes. I thought we might go up by the stream. I know a place off the path that is hardly ever frequented, besides most everyone will still be in church at this time of the day so there isn't any chance of us being bothered-“ Ernst’s face adopted a sharp look of alarm. “…What?" 

"Church! My Momma will kill me if she doesn't see me there. It's not as if your family doesn't attend, so she'll be expecting us!" he shouted, his voice sounding on the verge of panic.

"Calm down, I think she'll forgive you for missing it just this once. I'll even tell her it's my fault if you like," Hanschen said, putting his hands on Ernst's shoulders to steady him, "Please, just forget about church for today."

After a few moments, Ernst gave a hesitant nod and took a breath to compose himself, "What will you tell her?"

"I don't know, I'll think of something. Now come, I think you'll enjoy this."

It was a half hour's walk to the stream, followed by another ten minutes to get the place that Hanschen had in mind. It was about a third of a mile downstream from the bridge and they had to walk along the bank to get there as the path led uphill and away from it. It was a small area, heavily overhung and shaded by trees and the water was significantly shallower. The conditions were far from ideal for swimming or rafting, which made it perfect for the privacy they desired. Ernst sat down on the dry slope that lead to the water and looked up at Hanschen, "How did you find this place?"

He shrugged, "Walking on the path bores me."

"So I've learned."

Hanschen smirked and joined Ernst on the ground. Once they were settled Hanschen put his hand on the back of Ernst's neck and leaned in for a kiss. At its reciprocation he ley back in the earth and pulled the smaller boy on top of him to let the situation run its predictable course. They kissed and the kisses got deeper. They touched and the touches got possessive. They breathed and their breath became gasps and then moans and then sharp cries as they were completely undone by each other.

Affection is greatly undervalued. Most people will crave love, falsely believing that loyalty and tenderness and affection and passion will follow in its wake, eternally bound to its power like slaves to their master. What people fail to realize is that it all happens in the opposite order. Love is not the gatekeeper or the master but rather the slave, being dragged unwillingly along behind all that comes before. Those who love freely do so without understanding this order, they allow it to lead them, they give it the ultimate power that it's not meant to have until it consumes them. Those who guard their love understand the true value of affection. They know that what they are giving is something that others are lucky to receive and that if it's returned no outside force can take away its power.

Later, they sat together with Hanschen reclined against a tree, legs sprawled out in front of him and Ernst rested comfortably between them, his back on Hanschen's chest and strong arms encircling his waist. Both were lazy about clothes, their shirts abandoned a few feet away and their pants on, but left unbuttoned. As far as modesty went they were covered, but it didn't matter, they were alone, far from any place where something as trivial as clothing meant anything. Off in the distance, back where things mattered the church bells started to ring. The sound was fainter from so far away, but still perfectly clear.  _One. Two. Three_.

Hanschen kissed Ernst's temple and sighed, "My parents will be home soon."

"I know," Ernst mumbled, shifting in a way that stubbornly said that he wasn't planning on getting up.

"I should take you home."

"You should."

Of course he wasn't going to make this easy. In a perfect world a weekend alone together wouldn't be so hard to come by or so secretive. But they didn't live in a perfect world, they lived in the real world, and in the real world nothing was accepted or okay unless it was an exact follow through of parental instruction. "I don't like it either, but we have to. I'll see in school tomorrow," Hanschen said, urging Ernst to turn in his lap so they were face to face. He grudgingly nodded and went to pick up their shirts, sitting back in Hanschen's lap as he dressed. Hanschen put on his shirt then began buttoning Ernst's, smirking slightly as he did, "It is awfully strange helping you to put your clothes  _on_."

Ernst laughed a little in agreement and moved to do the same for Hanschen. Once they finished the very slow process of dressing they both looked in the direction they had come, knowing they should start walking, but not showing any indication that they were going to. Eventually Hanschen made the first move, picking up Ernst's bag and hanging it over his shoulder, then using his continued hold on it to pull him towards where they had to go with a slight tug. They walked side by side, silently and slowly. They crossed the bridge and let go of each other's hands. They re-entered the village and walked a little farther apart. They started on the path towards Ernst's house and slowed their pace even more. And when they finally reached the house they went around to the side instead of parting ways.

"Thank you, Hanschen. This was wonderful."

"It was, wasn't it?" He agreed, tracing a finger over Ernst's jawline.

"Y-yes. I'll see you tomorrow then?"

"Tomorrow." He leaned in and Ernst jumped up to meet him, wrapping his arms tightly around his neck and kissing with a level of possessiveness that matched Hanschen's. It was rough with tender intentions, claiming and promising. They gripped each other hard and kissed harder. When they released their breathing was heavy. Hanschen straightened Ernst's coat, brushed off his own shirt and started walking away.

"Hanschen!"

"Yes?" He asked, turning around.

"Um, my parents are going to the theatre next Thursday night. The-they won't be back until late."

"Oh? And what are you suggesting?"

"Would you like to help me study?"


End file.
